


Take a Tralk into Your Bed

by Rinkafic



Series: Misc Fanfic [18]
Category: Farscape
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-10
Updated: 2012-08-10
Packaged: 2017-11-11 20:46:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/482741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rinkafic/pseuds/Rinkafic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is one of three stories done for Farscapeland's "I Hate Therefore I am" challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Take a Tralk into Your Bed

He shouldn’t have trusted her. He shouldn’t have expected any better of her. After all, she had been complicit in the betrayal of his father when they had first done it. She really was a tralk. But she had been so very, very willing, eager and capable. She had done things to his body that he had never imagined one person would do to another, much less that such activities would feel good.

He was sorry for it the moment he first touched her, but it had not stopped him. He had still taken her. He had stolen her really for she did not belong to him. Her heart was supposed to belong to D’argo, to his father. It was so wrong. But it had felt so good at the time. He knew she was using him to escape D’argo because she didn’t know any other way to get away.

He thought that worst thing he would ever face was the betrayal in his father’s eyes when he had found out, when he learned what he and the Nebari tralk had done. But no, the eventual forgiveness was worse, so very much worse. It weighed on him, it pressed down upon him in a way he could not describe to anyone. Especially to her. She still, to this day, did not understand the scope of what they had done, how they had brought a warrior low. Back then, he had not understood it either, but now, after learning of Luxan honor, after going into the field as a warrior, he understood.

And he was ashamed. To his very core, he was shamed. He would never forgive himself, though his father had done so.

Stupidly, trustingly, he had gone back to Moya when she had asked. He had taken up with her again, delighting in her body. He was already cursed for eternity for the sin, why not have the pleasure of it? And so he had bedded with her, joined Moya’s crew, stayed with her, though only she treated him as truly welcome - she and the crazy old lady that liked everyone, even their enemies. Everyone else walked softly near him, and kept their confidences from him. He was among them, but not one of them, outcast without being cast out.

The ship had stopped; they were in orbit of a planet where they would trade for supplies. There was a market as well as an entertainment center. He should not have stayed behind on the ship; he should have gone with her on her shopping excursion. He had been lazy, he wanted to stay abed and not wander around the maze of stalls carrying her wares while she spent credits she did not have to spare.

When she had returned to Moya, she had smelled oddly to him. She had someone else’s scent upon her skin. When she saw his nostrils flare, she had laughed and asked if he liked her new perfume. But it wasn’t perfume, it was musk. Jothee wasn’t completely stupid.

She’d petted him and cajoled him when she’d finally come to the bed they shared, but he was angry and would not fall for her lies. He rolled over and gave her his back.

When he woke, she was gone. The bed was cold. Her traveling leathers were gone from the heap where she kept them in the corner. She was always careless with the things she had. He sat in the bed alone for a time, wondering what he should do. Did he want her back in it? He had known what she was when he came to this room, when he agreed to share this bed.

He untangled himself from the sheet and left the bed.

Pilot said she had gone to the planet with Rygel, but when Rygel returned, Chiana was not with him. Jothee convinced Aeryn to take him down to search the marketplace, since they would not trust him to take one of Moya’s precious transport pods alone. Aeryn grumbled under her breath about lover’s spats and stalked off, leaving him in front of the pleasure center. Going inside, he did not have to search very long, he heard her laughter and it led him straight to her.

In an area of long low couches near a bar, he found her. She was drunk, only half dressed and in the company of three men that were pawing her lasciviously. As she spotted him, she raised her glass in greeting. “Jothee, join us!”

If it were anyone else, he might have been shocked, but it was her. He shook his head declining the invitation, intending to leave. As he started to turn away, one of the men, the one that did not currently have his hands on any exposed Nebari skin, laughed and hissed, “He’s a coward.”  
.  
When Jothee turned back the man held out a cup. “Drink, if you aren’t a coward.”

Jothee admitted to being many things, but he had never thought of himself as a coward. He snatched the ceramic mug from the extended hand and swallowed deeply, emptying the contents in three gulps. The man smiled and pounded the shoulder of his comrade. “Now, look at that, he ain’t a coward after all! Join us, Jothee, is that your name?”

Join them? This was ridiculous, but he sat, allowing himself to be tortured by the sight of the female he had a claim on being touched and handled by strangers, in public. She was enjoying it, as well.

After a time, he started to feel very hot and the room began to swim. His vision blurred and he felt very strangely disconnected. It was getting hard to breathe. Feeling his body slump to one side, he tried to straighten up again, but it was no use. He slid to the floor.

“Jothee?” Chiana finally noticed him on the floor and leaned over the edge of the cushions to peer down at him. She giggled. “Hey, what are you doing down there?”

The words he tried to say came out as a garbled cough. He saw her eyes go wide and she scrambled off the cushions and crouched beside him on the floor. “What’s wrong? What was in that drink?”

“Just some kalaha juice and rostat,” the casual answer floated from above Jothee and Chiana’s heads. Rostat? Everyone knew rostat was toxic to Luxans. Didn’t they?

“He’s not breathing, someone call a medic!” Chiana’s hands were on him, he saw the blur of white hair as she leaned over him, felt the press of her mouth on his as she tried to blow air into him. Her attention was too little, too late.

Everything began to fade, sound, light, air. Eventually, he didn’t feel her anymore. He didn’t feel anything anymore.

 

The End


End file.
